The Monsters Sleep Inside Your Head
by AzureRusalka
Summary: Hermione stumbles across Bellatrix, who is beaten up and left for dead in the woods near Hogsmead. Neither is entirely what was always thought of them. Bellatrix/Hermione ... Bellamione.. my first fan/slash fic!
1. Chapter 1

**My first fan/slash fiction... Bellatrix/Hermione.. NC-17 (MA)... Set after OOTP... Ratings for 16 years old+ it will have some H/C, a little angsty, leading on to some F/F.**

**WORK IN PROGRESS :)**

"What is up with you now?" Ron asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at Hermione. "We used to have so much fun here, in Hogsmead. Our one school day where we're not actually at school... where we can forget about what's going on, just for a bit. Isn't that right Harry?"

Harry grunted, sipping some butterbeer. _This obviously hasn't taken his mind off of anything_, she thought, _it's probably being made worse with all these people here having a laugh, accepting things as they are, without a care in the world_.

"I think I'd rather be at school and learning." She said. "And I don't want you to say how predictable that is, as I do love it here - but being there and having something to focus on is better; AND far more productive."

"Typical." Ron said, shaking his head. "Well, I think we should at least make a day of it. Let's drink up and go to Honeydukes. I think some Fizzing Whizbees and Cauldron Cakes are waiting with mine and Harry's name on them!"

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I'm up for that."

She rolled her eyes and took a few last gulps of her butterbeer, feeling a welcome warmth flood her.

Despite it being almost spring, some snow still layered the ground and all the little thatched cottages and shops they walked past, and it was so difficult for any of them to not almost slip over on the ice hiding beneath it. The cold was biting at Hermione's fingers, despite the thick knitted gloves she was wearing.

Harry seemed to have cheered up a lot, there was a hubbub of chit-chat between himself and Ron as they made their way to the shop, talking about all the treats they were going to buy, and what they were going to do after. Hermione suddenly felt very misplaced, and also that she might have been making their day that bit worse for being so pensive around them. _Maybe I should let them go off by themselves and have some fun, I need a bit of time to myself,_ she thought.

"Are you coming in then?" said Ron. "It's bloody freezing out here!"

The warmth and sickly sweet smells from the shop was definately inviting.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk." She said, ignoring herself, but then noted the worried look on his and Harry's faces. "I'll meet you in a little while, you two go off and have some fun. I need to buy a few things anyway."

"Ok, but don't be too long! We'll meet you at Puddifoot's Tea Shop or something, so we can poke fun at all the little third years that are having a date in there." Ron said, nudging Harry.

"Delightful." She said, shaking her head, but also half-grinning. Ron always had a way of cheering both her, and Harry, up.. even if the naieve forcefulness of it was sometimes misplaced. Especially as Harry was obviously finding it very hard to make conversation at all right now, let alone have any fun. She knew his mind was stretched enough already, mainly with thoughts of Sirius. _At least Ron will be the better one to take his mind off things, _she thought,_ He's never one to delve too much into things, and that's the last thing Harry wants right now_.

Hermione decided to take a walk up through the small patch of woodland toward the Shrieking Shack. It was quiet there, and would be somewhere to give her time to think and gather her thoughts together so she could be strong for Harry. It was always difficult to form words to someone who was grieving, who was already still grieving for his parents all those years ago, his last string of hope for a proper family was just taken from him. Just like that. And things could still get so much worse for him, and for everyone.

She trudged through the snow, and the Shrieking Shack came into view across the fields of white. She sat on a giant rock by the rickety fence, and peered through it- watching her warm breath visibly weaving through the air infront of her.

She heard a twig snap from behind her and she turned around. Nothing. Just trees. Beautifully wrapped in paper-like white. Perhaps a bird.

Looking back at the Shrieking Shack, and the fields surrounding it, she was taken in by how picturesque everything was. She decided to take a walk along the fence besides the woods, to get a closer look at it all.

It was beginning to get a little darker now, the afternoons these days always seemed to get darker quicker. Hermione made her way round the winding path a little more, and began to hear a very muffled crying sound coming from up the hill and inside the trees.

She pulled out her wand, to be too careful was best, she felt, even though the sounds where not threatening her at all.

She pulled herself up over some tree roots which where paving a middle through some very steep icy slopes either side. The cries where a little louder, and she hoisted herself up by a tree branch onto more steady terrain.

At first she noticed red stained blood in the snow, a few specks at first, but the crimson was became more drenched as her eyes flicked along it. She gasped, as a few metres away from her, she saw a black clad figure sprawled across the ground, and messy long dark hair matting into the floor. The figure was very still and very silenced, as it heard the stranger edge closer from behind.

Her first assumption, was that this woman was dead. How could she not be, with the amount of blood patterning everywhere as she lay face-down, and now her sudden silence.

Hermione knelt down beside the woman, and reached her hand over her hair and gently pulled it to the side of her face.

"Get away from me!" A high-pitched shriek emitted from the woman, and erratic breathing began after holding her breath for so long. She had grabbed Hermione's hand and managed to throw her backwards with her little strength.

Hermione slipped over and fell against a tree, the rough bark scratching at her face, inviting in more numbing cold beneath her skin. She would have fallen anyway, at the shock of seeing Bellatrix Lestrange laying infront of her. She stayed where she fell, her hand gripping her wand tight, and fear gripping her mind tight.

Bellatrix had her head up and her elbows dragged through the snow as she placed her hands infront of her, her arms were shaking so much as she pathetically tried to push herself upright. Her hair tangling down her bruised cheeks. Several clotted gashes addorned her ivory skin.

Hermione did not move, she could not take her eyes off of the dark witch. She was unsure of whether to leave her here and run back to Hogsmeade, or not. The spectacle of this derranged witch suddenly so vulnerable was captivating, yet, this person before her was dying.

Bellatrix tried to ignore the fact she now had a spectator, and forced herself up more so she was almost in a sitting position, new blood seemed to seep from beneath her black velvet dress and trickle into the snow. Her eyes darted at Hermione again and she felt her chin wobble, and then collapsed back onto the ground.

Hermione, almost paralysed with fear, managed to stand herself up and walked back slowly over to Bellatrix, she crouched down and put her hand onto her shoulder which made the witch flinch dramatically.

"Let me.. help you." She said, now trying to stop herself from crying. All sorts of emotions soared through her, but she knew that she couldn't just sit and watch someone die infront of her, even if it was the most feared of witches. As much as most people would have happily been in her place and probably finished her off, she didn't want any part of it - as that would make her as bad as these evil murderous people themselves.

"Get away from me filthy _DISGUSTING_ mudblood." Bellatrix screeched, putting as much energy into her words as she could muster.

"What happened to you?" Hermione asked, but her question was met with no reply. "I can't just leave you here!"

"Yes, you can." She hoarsed, trying to push herself up again. "Go away little muddy-mud. The Dark Lord will be here soon to fetch me, and you do not want to be here when he is."

Hermione felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and she looked around the trees and into the sky. When she looked back down at Bellatrix, she noticed that she had managed to wriggle her way into a sitting position finally, and she was holding her stomach tightly with both hands, blood still escaping from between her delicate fingers which where tapered with long hooked fingernails. Hermione noticed that the dark witch was shaking a lot now, and looking so much more sickly pale than ever before.

"You must be so cold." Hermione said, taking off her coat.

"The cold-blooded don't fear cold." She said, and noticed Hermione was about to wrap her coat around her. "Don't you DARE-"

She kicked out at the young witch, the high heels of her shoes digging in her shins repeatedly.

"STOP. Just STOP resisting. Just take it, leave your strength for anything other than protesting." Hermione dared.

Bellatrix was heaving for breath now, and she moved her hand off her wound to clasp her chest as if in some way it would help her regain more oxygen. She hated how weak she felt infront of this spectator, who must be relishing every moment, this _bad egg_.

"Bellatrix, from the most noble house of Black, WILL NOT BE HELPED BY A MUDBLOOD."

Hermione felt very brave right now, however - she may not have felt so brave if this woman had not bled everywhere so much, and had obviously taken some kind of beating. "Put your hands on your wound and put lots of pressure on it, it will stop the blood coming out so fast." She wrapped her coat around Bellatrix, tightly to make her at least a little warmer.

Bellatrix looked away, moving her bottom jaw to the side in a silent act of protest. She would have preffered anyone... ANYTHING.. in place of this stupid disease-ridden girl. She wished she had just been left to die.

Hermione ignored how much Bellatrix was trying to express her dissent. "Do you not know any healing spells? Or anything at least to slow it down a bit?" Although the thought worried her, this woman might kill her if she was to heal her up even a little.

Her question was met with silence, again, and Hermione began to wonder what this witch was thinking, what was going through her mind right now. She sat down beside her and snaked her arm around Bellatrix's back, pulling her in to keep her warm, even though she was freezing cold herself. Bellatrix was tense, her neck, shoulder and arms very rigid - disgust, maybe, but a slight sense of fear, possibly?

Bellatrix sighed, feeling her body slowing down and the cold getting underneath her skin, and the wetness pushing its way out of it. Even her blood could no longer stand to be in her. The Mudblood felt warm, however, much warmer then she was.. and so she gave in, a little. Almost accepting that she was going to die in the arms of a bad breed. A bad breed emitting some last warmth for her, at the very least. She hated that she was letting this creature do whatever she needed to to make herself feel better. Stupid Gryffindor child, always looking for weak appeasement.

"Where is he? I thought you said he was coming?" Hermione said, her panicking eyes darting through the skies as it began to get darker. She really did not want him to come, but she knew he would be able to heal Bellatrix better than she could, if he did. _Who am I kidding, who is SHE kidding.. he won't come_, she thought.

Hermione moved her hand down Bellatrix's back to find a tightly laced corset, she moved infront of the witch and kneeled above her, both her legs on either side of her. Hermione pulled up the coat a little, and very gently squeezed the corset to unclip it. Bellatrix did not say a word, just watching this girl now with assailable eyes. Hermione began to unbutton her dress, once the slit of pale skin of the dark witch's torso and stomack was reveiled, she placed both her hands inside and pulled the dress slightly apart gently with the backs of her wrists. A deep gash was revealed to her, it was not bleeding so much anymore, but it was still oozing a lot. Hermione drew out her wand and placed the tip of it near the edges of the wound, "_Vulnera Sanentu, Vulnera Sanentu, Vulnera Sanentu._" she whispered, and ghostly threads started to stitch up the wound.

Bellatrix was breathing heavily whilst looking up, almost transfixed but confused, at the young witch, who slid her finger across the newly formed scar, which made her gasp, to check it was properly sewn. They were both silently shocked at how well the spell had worked.

Hermione noticed other scars on this woman's stomach and chest, which rose and fell before her. Silvery lines, some of which looked so much deeper than the one she had just healed. She blushed as she had suddenly become aware of her breasts, so perfect, with nipples hardened to the cold. She shook off the thoughts, and began to button up her dress, and covered her snugly with her coat again. Her eyes finally looked into Bellatrix's, who still looked so lost with herself but was still staring right back at her. The woman seemed to burn beneath her. Hermione got off of her and sat beside her once more.

Although Bellatrix still definately needed proper medical attention, Hermione was lost for words. She was definately worried for her safety now. Would this witch hurt her even after she had helped her? Surely Bellatrix knew that not many people would have done the same? Not even her Dark Lord?... And the feelings which had flashed through her mind, when she was healing her - why did she suddenly find Bellatrix so beautiful? Her black hair which hung to her waist in a beautiful mess, and her vacant eyes encased with threat, her ivory-skinned body, covered in silver scars and trapped in torturing tight clothes? Her sudden vulnerability from utmost power? The fact that she was so easily discarded from someone she evidently would do anything for? Her beauty was definately very trodden and disfigured, like a butterfly nailed to a wall, or a delicate giant moth caught in a spiderweb, but Hermione suddenly felt she could still see it - shining through it all.

They both sat staring away from eachother.

Bellatrix coughed, which broke the silence. "What now then, Muddy?" She said, this time Hermione flinched.

"I-I don't know." she said.

"I have no wand." Bellatrix said. "Rodolphus took it from me as my punishment."

Hermione looked at her again, "Did he do this to you?" she said, sharply.

"Why do you care?" She said. "It's not of your concern, mudblood."

"I don't." Hermione said, looking away again, feeling all sorts of revolt and yet some weird sort of compassion towards this derranged woman, all at the same time. She didn't know what to feel. "I mean... I _do_. Of course I do, I don't want anyone to ever get hurt."

"You hurt and get hurt. It's how it is." Bellatrix said, pursing her lips, evidently feeling a little stronger.

She started shivering again, and Hermione stood up and helped her up too, and they started walking carefully over the ice. _The Shrieking Shack would be a good place to keep her until she regains her strength, and at least it will be warm,_ Hermione thought, as she almost carried Bellatrix along the path there, both in total silence. Hermione had not realised before how tiny Bellatrix actually was, she had always seemed so baronial and imposing before.

Once they arrived, Hermione fixed up the bed which had previously collapsed when Harry attacked Snape with a disarming spell two years ago or so, and helped Bellatrix into it, she put her corset onto the bedside table, and pulled the covers over Bellatrix to help her warm up.

Hermione then pointed her wand at the fireplace, and realised she did not know any spells to light the fire.

"Give it here." Bellatrix said, and a bit too naievely, Hermione handed her her wand, and regretted it as soon as she did so. Bellatrix pointed it at the fireplace, muttered some words, and lit a fire, and then, strangely, passively handed the wand back to Hermione.

"Th-thankyou." Hermione stammmered.

"Don't thank me. I need that lit or else I WILL die this time round."

Although she was very confused at the whole situation, she knew that Bellatrix was probably more so confused than she was.. she had never seen the older witch so quiet. She had only ever seen her in her more frenzied moods of utter mania. _But... she can't be like that ALL the time..._ Hermione thought.

"Run along now little Muddy, leave me to myself." Bellatrix said, her eyes staring into the fire.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry that this chapter has taken so long and is only very short, I don't get much free time on the computer without my girlfriend wanting to know what I am up to on here! She would not appreciate the Slash writing as she's already a little jealous [and a little freaked out] of how much I like Bellatrix :P** ... **Reviews and critique are always welcome! :)**

Hermione wasn't sure whether it was a good idea to leave Bellatrix to herself. Even taking her back to Hogwarts would have been a little better than leaving her in the Shrieking Shack, Dumbledore would have understood, and he would have helped in his own strange crypted way. But Bellatrix would have had none of it anyway, she barely spoke a word as Hermione stared down at her in total loss.

"You'll be ok?" She asked.

Bellatrix's eyes darted at her own and held a piercing gaze for a short second, and then darted back to the fire, she was still shivering a little beneath the covers. Being met with silence again, Hermione decided it was best to get back to Harry and Ron in Hogsmeade.

"And where have you been?" snapped Ron. "We thought you might have just gone back to school... it's a good job we decided to wait around a few extra minutes for you!"

Both him and Harry looked a little worried.

"I couldn't find the books I wanted, I'll have to try again soon." Hermione reassured them both.

"We bought you some sweets! And some teacakes from Puddifoot's." Harry said, passing her a few brown paper bags filled with treats, as they made their way back to the castle. Snow began to fall and set around them.

* * *

Bellatrix felt a little better now infront of the glow of the roaring fire. She reached her hands to her face to feel the hard scabs which addorned it. She peered at the Dark Mark on her left arm, waiting for the flush of black across the snake and skull and the eventual sting to start where her master would call upon her once again.

The shame she felt, the Mudblood interrupting the games she liked to play. This one had gone a little too far though, she had to admit.. and she somehow felt that it had meant to be that way. It was in a best effort for her to have gone far beyond being just hurt. Stupidity like this, will not happen twice, and stupidity like that, will not go unpunished. The Dark Lord will know of the treachery to his most faithful, her husband was too stupid to ever claim any kind of worthy glory from him, even with her gone.

She tried to shake off the thoughts of how warm the brat had felt against her, rejuvenating veins which had long since had blood cut off to them. She had never felt that way before, Rodolphus had never had any warmth about him. As hollow as she knew her heart was, there was still a child somewhere in there who dreamt of something good for her. It was a feeling she imagined the Dark Lord could give her, but he had much more important things to do right now, always, and she never doubted it. Much bigger things occupied his mind. She could wait, oh, how she could wait... he would lavish her with all her dreams once The Cause became a reality. Her mother, and her ancestors would twist their smiles from beyond their graves.. she would be the one to make the Slytherin descendant love, but only love her, the thought of him giving her a Slytherin heir to carry in her belly was something she always obsessed over. The House of Black would be redeemed after some branches in her family tree had rotted and dropped away. A Lestrange, she most definately was not.

Bellatrix decided it was best to tell the Dark Lord nothing. He must not know that she nearly failed this game of endurance without the Mudblood.. and she knew that the Mudblood would not tell a soul, for it would hurt little Potter too much to know that she had helped someone like her who did the things she did. Rodolphus would suffer in ways of his most discomfort.

_But why did she help me?_ The thought would not leave her be, but she wished she would... she could not justify her question with the answer of her being a doo-gooder Gryffindor. She closed her eyes as she remembered the feeling of the young witch's hands trailing patterns down her chest and stomach, so delicate, and felt an unknown flutter in the pit of her stomach. The feeling almost made her feel sick, her body was betraying her mind... it was an alien sucking at her nerves, a tumour. _Her infection has spread to me._ She worriedly thought.

Her left arm began to sting and she watched the Dark Mark turn black and ripple like water. All her previous thoughts floated away, as she smiled and excitedly pressed the mark on her arm and waited to be taken by her Lord.


End file.
